


underneath

by kiyala



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Crossdressing, Gloves, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 12:13:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/573147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q is wearing a corset beneath his regular clothes. Bond finds out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	underneath

**Author's Note:**

> Written to accompany [pie](http://piecrmbs.tumblr.com/)'s art over [here](http://piecrmbs.tumblr.com/post/36500286713).

Q can tell the exact moment that Bond looks his way from the hitch in his breath. Hiding his smile, he continues taking his shirt off, placing it on the bed before beginning to unbutton his pants.

“Have you…” Bond’s voice is a little rough already. He clears his throat, taking a step towards Q and touching his bare shoulder. Q turns to him expectantly and Bond’s gaze drops to the dark material sitting snugly around Q’s sides before he looks back up. “…You’ve been wearing that all day.”

Q smirks, watching Bond’s gaze slide down again. “I was in the mood for it. I like knowing it’s there, under my shirt and cardigan.”

“Mm, I can imagine.” Bond runs his fingers over the material, tracing the patterns. He rests his hand on Q’s side, its weight both reassuring and thrilling at once. He leans in, his lips soft and warm on Q’s neck. “So nice and snug around you. It must be comforting.”

“It gave me something to look forward to all day,” Q murmurs, his fingers in Bond’s hair, holding him close, “knowing that you would see it once we got home. There’s more…”

Taking Bond’s hands in his own, Q guides them down, to the stretch of skin between the bottom of the corset and the top of his trousers. He knows when Bond feels the thin band of his panties by the low groan.

“ _Q_.”

“Sit down,” Q instructs, gently pushing Bond over to the bed. “I’ll be over in a minute.”

Bond only ever does as he’s told without arguing when he knows he’ll get sex in return. Q isn’t really in the state to mind, right now. He crosses the room to the table against the wall, opening the drawer and pulling out the pair of black silk gloves.

“Oh, god yes,” Bond breathes from where he’s sitting, at the edge of the bed. He’s already lost his shirt and is in nothing but his own trousers. Q looks over at him, smiling a little as he pulls them on. Spreading his legs, Bond pats his lap. “Come here.”

Bond’s eyes slip shut the moment Q’s gloved hands touch his face. His lips part, and Q drags his thumb over Bond’s lower lip. He’s standing between Bond’s legs, the fly of his trousers open enough that when Bond opens his eyes again, he can see the black material of the panties Q is wearing, already bulging a little.

Pulling Q’s trousers down, Bond’s hands run over his bare legs, down to his knees and then back up. He tugs lightly at the panties without any real intent to take them off just yet, and then places his hand on Q’s chest, right where the corset ends and his chest begins, and gently pushes him a couple of steps back before sinking to his knees.

Q gasps as Bond nuzzles against his erection, breathing him in before mouthing at him through the thin material. The head of Q’s cock is peeking over the top of his panties now but Bond ignores it for now, moving lower to drag his tongue over his balls.

“ _Bond_.” Q is already breathless and it only encourages Bond. He licks and sucks, slowly working his way up until he reaches the head of Q’s cock. He laps at it, teasing, and Q grunts, his fingers tightening in Bond’s hair. “Please.”

Bond wraps his lips around the very tip, making the most obscene sounds as he sucks that Q would feel mortified if it didn’t feel so _good_. Q’s thighs are trembling, and he’s certain that he’s leaking precome right onto Bond’s tongue, and it feels good, but it’s still nowhere near enough for him.

Then Bond stops, sucking and kissing his way to the bow on one side, keeping the panties tied. He closes his teeth around it and tugs, letting it come undone. He does the same to the other side and lets the small scrap of material fall to the floor as he swallows Q’s cock down.

Q is pulling on Bond’s hair, the black gloves standing out among the blond, his breath coming in short gasps. Bond seems to notice as he pulls away, getting to his feet and kissing Q deeply, giving him a taste of himself.

“We’ll take this off so you can breathe,” he murmurs, his fingers nimbly undoing the corset. “You can keep the gloves on.”

When Q is wearing nothing but the gloves, Bond grabs him by the waist, lifting him and walking towards the bed, laying him down on it before climbing on top of him. Q undoes the front of Bond’s pants, sliding a hand into his briefs. He closes his fingers around Bond’s erection, smiling as he strokes. Bond groans, and Q’s smile grows as he feels the material of his gloves getting damp.

Shoving his pants and briefs down, Bond drags his cock against Q’s, slow and deliberate. There are condoms and a small bottle of lube stashed beneath the pillow, they both know it, but neither of them are patient enough for that right now. Not when they can just wrap their hands around each other, stroking and thrusting and gasping into each other’s mouths.

Q is too high-strung to last for very long; not when he’s been wearing the corset all day, _waiting_ for this. He comes with a cry, muffled against Bond’s mouth as he’s kissed.

He wants to go boneless but instead, he just strokes Bond harder and whispers, “I want to see you come all over these gloves.”

Bond does, moaning wordlessly and burying his face against Q’s neck. The gloves are utterly ruined, and Q doesn’t mind one single bit.

“Next time,” Bond murmurs, his voice husky, “let me know you’re wearing the corset before we leave in the morning.”

Q smiles, pulling his gloves off and running his bare fingers across Bond’s cheek. “Next time.”


End file.
